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Number 128, Copperhead Drive (Short story)
For as long as I can remember, house #128 stood derelict at the end of Copperhead Drive. Never did I see another family move into the house, nor any other living soul even step foot onto the porch. It seemed as if everyone was avoiding the house, not even acknowledging its existence. I never even saw a stray animal step foot near it. But what could there be about this house that would stir such disruption in an otherwise normal suburban neighbourhood? I didn’t think I would ever know. After all, I was only a small child when I fully became aware of the strange house at the end of our drive, and I had moved away to a different town before I had the chance to find some answers as an adult. But reminiscing of old childhood memories somehow stirred up the thought of that house. I realized how I was still hungry for answers, answers I could probably only find by visiting the old place. But what if it had been torn down by now? I did hear of a house being demolished on Copperhead, maybe it was #128. But I decided to take my chances anyways. Fast forward three weeks to my summer vacation. After working for 7 months straight with no off time (except for weekends), I decided to take two weeks off in June. I really needed a break, Police work is very tiresome. After taking the first three days of my vacation, I figured that it was about time to get ready and go on my so-called “Truth seeking mission”. Going to the house might not solve all of my questions (if any), but it would most likely give me some insight into why everyone avoided the house. So on Thursday, June 17th, I packed up all the equipment I would need to bring along such as flashlights, batteries and a respirator (just in case) into my Nike gym bag and placed into the trunk of my car. The drive would take about three hours, but I was sure that it would be worth it. After all, I might not get a shot at this ever again. I heard that the whole neighbourhood was to be renovated and re-built. That would mean that #128 would be gone if it wasn’t already. So I shifted the car out of park and into drive, then took off down the road leaving the safety of my small bungalow. Who knows what sorts of nasty surprises could await me at my destination..' ' Approximately three and a half hours later, I pulled up to old Copperhead Drive. Rolling slowly down the road, I looked around at my surroundings and was surprised to see the whole area was in a state of disrepair. 20 years ago everything was all good, and now it looked as if part of Detroit had stolen the block and replaced it with one of it’s blocks. Not even my childhood home could escape the fate of Copperhead Drive. The windows looked greenish with all sorts of grime covering them, while the rest of the house suffered from heavy mold damage and just overall dirtiness that splattered the white siding. But someone still lived there, which was nice to see as most other houses had since been abandoned. Before I realized it, I had pulled up right in front of #128. Something seemed off about the house though. It was very run-down, but yet it was not in such a state of disrepair as the other vacant homes were. It looked almost as if someone took the time to care for it.. sort of. I decided that I would be extra careful here, just in case something did indeed happen. And as an extra precaution, I came packing heat. In with all the other items I brought along on the journey, my Police Issue, Glock 9mm sat in it’s case with two full clips. I was almost certain that the gun would not be needed, but I didn’t want to be caught in a situation where I needed to defend myself and there was nothing there to defend myself with. Getting out of my car, I walked around to the trunk of the car and grabbed the bag. I closed the trunk and sat the bag down on top of it and opened it up. I grabbed the Glock and holstered it by my side, then I took the respirator and flashlights out. ' ' I hung the respirator around my neck and tucked away one of the flashlights into my pocket, while gripping the other in my left hand. Now it was time, time to face the music. I walked up the front steps and right through the empty doorframe. I looked down at my feet and noticed that the door was lying right there. It seemed as if someone kicked the door down in an (successful) attempt to get in. Probably just some damn vandals, picking on the poor run-down neighbourhoods again. I stepped around the solid oak door and ended up in the first room. It looked like what would have been the living room, but everything was trashed and the interior was ripped up. Typical vandal doings, probably stripping the house for it’s copper wire. I definitely would arrest anyone I caught around here, but I had to remember that I was off-duty. Setting my mind off of work would probably be the best thing to do right now. Seeing as there wasn’t much to look at in the presumed living room, I decided to move to the back of the house where there were a couple of bedrooms. But there was something off about this part of the house which was very odd. The further I went back, the cleaner the house got. Some of these rooms even looked like.. someone was still living there. Maybe it was just someone trying to pull a prank on the next sucker who came back here. But then I saw it, the lump under the blanket on a bed in the master bedroom. My cop instincts kicked in and I automatically took my Glock out of it’s holster and pointed it towards the bed. I shouted at the thing under the blanket to come out, but it didn’t move an inch. This was when I decided to see what really was under there. Taking careful strides across the floor, I reached the blanket and yanked it up off the bed. But there was nothing under there. I was confused now, what did I just see? I didn’t believe in the paranormal, but considering the circumstances around the house, there could have been something “supernatural” around here.. *SLAM* Jumping up, I turned around and pointed my gun at the door which was now closed. There was someone here, and they definitely knew that I was here. Without hesitation, I yelled out that I was a cop and that they needed to come out with their hands up. But I didn’t get a response. I tried one more time, and something got lodged on the other side of the door. In response, I fired a shot at the door and it torpedoed right on through to the other side. It must have hit something, as I heard a large thud immediately after the shot rang out. Oh god, I might have just killed someone. I was allowed to discharge my weapon if needed, but the only time when it was acceptable to actually kill a man was when he was a threat to us and/or the general public. I had just broken the code, I myself could be arrested for this. But then again, what if I hadn’t killed the person behind the door? I was curious now. I walked over and slowly opened it fully. But there wasn’t a single soul to be seen anywhere. Okay, there had to be someone playing tricks on me, there’s no way that anything else could be doing this. Still holding my Glock close, I traveled down the hall away from the bedrooms and towards the kitchen area. Everything still looked normal so far, nothing out of place. Maybe the prankster had decided it was time to leave? Well, anyone with common sense would definitely leave a high-strung man with a gun alone. *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* All the doors around me started swinging madly, slamming shut and opening again. The noise was deafening. There was no way this could be happening, there’s no way! But it was happening, and the noise just got louder and louder. Looking around the room revealed no way of escaping the madness, but then I saw that the basement door was open and not moving. I would probably regret this decision, but I made a run for it and dove into the basement. The slamming still did not cease. But now the madly swinging doors weren’t the strangest thing going on.. in the middle of the basement stand a bloody figure in a tight yellow hazmat suit. His skin looked as if it had been broiled and burned by acid and he was missing 3 digits on his left hand. He only stood there staring at me, probably enjoying the fact that I looked like a scared idiot shakily holding a pistol out in front of him. I tried to fire off a shot towards him, but it only passed through.. this was no human, it was something else. Before it tried anything, I ran up the stairs and towards the entrance. The door had somehow managed to put itself back into place, but I took care of it with two shots and a mighty kick. Hopping into my car, I started it up and sped off. But not before I saw the faces of about 15+ people peering out through every inch of that damn house, all of them looking like a creature from the deepest, darkest part of someone’s greatest fears. I never made an attempt to go back to #128, and I never told anybody about what the hell happened there. All I know is that Copperhead Drive has since undergone repairs and #128 has since been demolished. But the strangest thing? While excavating the basement, the found an upwards of 15 corpses.. among them being a corpse in a tattered, yellow hazmat suit. Nobody knows his true identity, and nothing else has been discovered about any of the other bodies. The questions that still remain are “If such strange happenings were known about before, why didn’t they investigate?”, “Where did the man in the hazmat suit come from?” and most importantly.. “Who killed all of these people?”. KingoftheUnderground669 Category:Creepypasta Category:Creepypastas Category:Real Life Category:Original Story